


Balance

by LetheAfterDark (LetheSomething)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, Character Development, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kink Negotiation, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Kink, Mild S&M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Relationship Negotiation, Romance, Rough Sex, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 00:30:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6930667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetheSomething/pseuds/LetheAfterDark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being with Hanamiya Makoto was like fencing on a high wire: exhilarating but dangerous. You knew you were making a bad decision when you stepped through the door to his apartment. And that was even before you allowed yourself to fall for the inscrutable bastard. </p>
<p>
  <i>A slow burn romance story with a fair share of kinky smut and a lot of fluff.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bad News

**Author's Note:**

> Another 'porn with plot' story. All the actual porn is concentrated in chapters 2, 4, 8 and 12  
> There's some milder NSFW stuff in 6 as well.  
> You can skip (to) those, if you want, though you might miss a bit of story that way.

You met Hanamiya Makoto during your second year of university, at a house party your room mate threw. The girl had a thing for athletes, which explained why your school's entire basketball team was gathered in your tiny living room, drinking beer and shouting at the tv. The sickly sweet smell of weed hung heavy in the air and a couple was making out in a small patch of space by the door, half undressed, swaying lazily to a sappy love song on the stereo. Someone whined at them to get a room but both of those were already occupied by the sound of grunts and giggles. A small voice in the back of your head told you to change your sheets before ever sleeping in your own bed again.

 

You picked up some of the dirty plates and glasses scattered around the room and retreated to your small galley kitchen, where it was quieter and easier to move. A breeze from the open window offered a welcome breath of air. It smelled of moss and rain and it made you ever so slightly nostalgic. You filled the sink and started mechanically washing dishes, a small act that gave you some comfort and an excuse to stay away from the roaring crowd.

"Any drinks in here that are not alcohol?" a voice called out to you.

"Sure, there's soda and juice in the fridge," you answered, not looking up from your soapy water.

You heard the sound of the fridge door, followed by the hiss-click of a can being opened. And then nothing. Slowly you became aware of being watched, like a deer making out the presence of a rifle in the bushes.

When you turned around, a tall man with sleek black hair was casually leaning against the side of the refrigerator. He didn't even trying to hide his predatory gaze, looking you up and down as if you were a horse he was thinking of placing a bet on.

"So, are you the maid here?" he asked.

"I live here, Hanamiya-kun," you answered.

Of course you'd heard of him. The man wore his reputation like a scarlet letter. He was both handsome and brilliant, arrogant and uncaring. It was a toxic combination that made him utterly insufferable. Since entering university, he'd broken many hearts. According to your room mate, he used to break a lot more than that in his younger days.

He was Bad News, the kind you could never help but be intrigued by.

 

"__, isn't it?" He hopped up on the counter next to you, taking a sip from his can.

"What are you doing in here, when all the fun is to be had in there?" He jerked his head towards the living room, where the chorus of shouts had just grown to a crescendo. Someone, it appeared, had scored a point.

"The same thing you are doing, I believe," you answered, "Looking for some space and some air."

He hummed at your comment.

"Besides, I don't mind cleaning up," you added.

He snorted. 

"You know, they say you're the nice one," he said after a moment of silence. 

"They?" you replied, lifting an eyebrow and looking up. A small smile curled his lips as he read the text on the back of his soda. 

" _They_ say you're the sober one, the one that takes people to the hospital and cleans up the mess. The good girl. A little angel in the kitchen," he said. 

"That's a lot of praise for one person, Hanamiya-kun."

"You consider that praise, angel girl?" he chuckled.

"Most people would."

"And apparently," he went on, "out of all the sluts at this party, you're the hardest to get in bed." He tasted the words on his tongue before taking another sip. 

"Is that so?" If he was trying to get a rise out of you, he was going to have to work harder. 

"Where do you rank on that list, then?" you asked him, rinsing your hands.

He let out a short, sharp laugh. 

"Somewhere above the rest of the basketball team, I'm sure," he said. "Our shooting guard would fuck anything that walks."

You'd stopped your work and leaned against the counter, looking up at this strange man blocking your exit. He exuded the sort of cool detachment that you, much against your better judgement, found attractive. You really wouldn't mind seeing what was under that worn black shirt he was wearing, if only for a short while.

He paused for a second and stared down at you, sepia coloured irises taking in every line on your face, every strand of your hair. You locked eyes with him, smiling politely. It was fairly obvious what he was doing here, from the low tones in his voice and the hint of danger in the muscles of his hand, right down to the sparkle of determination in his eye. 

You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth. You were about to make a mistake and you knew it. 

 

"You're an interesting one, angel girl." he conceded, finally looking away from you and gulping down the rest of his drink.

"I'm hardly an angel, Hanamiya-kun."

"Really?" He glanced down again. "Why don't you show me, then?"

You had a reputation as someone who never blushed. Years of playing in theatre, and several months of dealing with your room mate, had made you quite resistant to embarrassment. It came in really handy at this very moment. You stared back, face neutral and unmoving while the blood in your veins rushed faster than it ever had.

He grinned and slid off the counter before throwing the can across the kitchen, landing it perfectly in the trash can. 

"Come on, __, we're ditching this place."

You blinked. 

"The smoke is getting stifling and those idiots are way too loud." He put both hands in his pockets and walked out, not even looking back to check if you were coming. The man was so self-assured it made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

But he was right, of course, even with the kitchen window open, your lungs were getting scratchy and the atmosphere in this entire apartment was suffocating. Your heart beat fast at the very thought of what you were about to do. Your brain begged you to pick literally anyone else currently in your living room, but the buzz in the pit of your stomach whispered of excitement, adventure and intrigue. It didn't take you long to decide.

You grabbed your purse and coat, slipping out of your home and into the cool night air.

 

He was waiting for you a few steps from your door, having a staring contest with a cat in your neighbour's yard.

"Took you long enough," he said when you walked up, scaring the animal away.

"You're a very confident man, Hanamiya-kun." 

He shrugged. "I know your type," he said, walking off.

"My type?" You followed. He didn't deign to answer, but you could see his lip curl again, a tiny sign of amusement on his otherwise bored looking features.

"So where are we going?" you asked, jogging to keep up with his long strides.

"Where do you _think_?" he replied. "It's too cold to stay out and everything's closed. We'll go to my place. At least it's quiet there."

"You're not fond of parties, are you Hanamiya-kun?"

"Too many people," he grunted.

"Then why go?"

"I get bored easily. Besides," he said, hand snaking around your waist, "how else am I going to find my next lay?"

You ignored his jab, letting him lead you through the street. His level of arrogance was astounding and any other time you'd have shoved him away. But right now his touch was causing static all along your spine.

 

Still, when he led you to a small studio and fished out his keys, you felt yourself hesitate. You wavered, standing a few steps behind as he unlocked the door. He gave you a bored look.

"Getting cold feet?"

"About what, Hanamiya-kun?" you said, keeping your voice calm and innocent.

"Come now, we both know why you're here." He cleared the space between you two in a second and bent forward, nose almost touching yours.

"You smell like sin, angel girl," he sniffed. "You like the bad boys, don't you? Girls like you always do. And I'm about as bad as they get. It's what brings you to my door. You wanna take a spin? You wanna know what it's like to be fucked raw?"

You swallowed thickly. This close up you could smell his body wash, could almost feel the heat radiating off his chest.

He snapped back and walked into the apartment, leaving the door slightly ajar.

"Don't make me wait, __-saaann."

The man was maddening. 

This was exactly how bad decisions got made, you thought, as you took a tentative step forward.

 


	2. One condition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Don't worry, angel girl," he said in a low voice, thumbs rubbing your cheeks, "I don't need any of that to make you beg."  
> He kissed you again, palms not leaving your face.  
> "And believe me," he murmured into your gasping mouth, "I will make you beg."  
> You smiled against his lips, hands travelling down his chest. "I'd like to see you try."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, this is a porn chapter. Make sure to sit in a corner or something.

As soon as you walked through the door, his palm slammed it shut, caging you between his tall body and the wood. He pressed his lips to yours, one hand trailing your side. You made a small protesting noise, but quickly eased into the kiss, letting his tongue explore your mouth.

He tasted of lemon and sugar and when he let go, he left you gulping for air.

"Predictable," he whispered with a smirk.

He moved his mouth down your neck, teeth grazing your throat. His hand was already roaming under your shirt and his nails scraped your skin, just hard enough to not be painful.

 

"One condition," you breathed, steeling yourself.

He broke away. "Already making demands, are you?" he huffed.

"One condition," you repeated. You placed your hands on his chest and straightened your back, looking up at him.

He raised his eyebrows. There was something behind those clay brown eyes, something hungry, something born of need and frustration. But it was held back as he waited for you to speak.

"Don't hurt me," you said.

He laughed, a single, sharp bark dripping with mockery. "So little faith," he said.

"I know your reputation well enough, Hanamiya-kun."

"And yet, here you are," he mused. He leaned in again, cupping your face in both hands and tipping your chin up.

"Don't worry, angel girl," he said in a low voice, thumbs rubbing your cheeks, "I don't need any of that to make you beg."

He kissed you again, palms not leaving your face.

"And believe me," he murmured into your gasping mouth, "I _will_ make you beg."

You smiled against his lips, hands travelling down his chest. "I'd like to see you try."

 

He released you and took a step back, irritated twitch in his face. Whatever beast was hiding behind those eyes was fighting its way closer to the surface. It grabbed your hand and unceremoniously pulled you along with him to his bed. 

"Hey!" You just managed to take off your coat and shoes on the way, before he tipped you onto the mattress and crawled on top, straddling you. 

Your hands reached up to his shirt collar, pulling him down and sucking on his bottom lip, nibbling it lightly before letting go.

"Eager little thing, aren't you?" he growled with a barely restrained grin.

You smiled and moved your leg to feel his growing erection press against his jeans. 

"You're one to talk, Hanamiya-kun."

He grunted and sat back on his haunches, impatiently pushing up your shirt before clawing at your bra. He pulled it down to reveal your breasts and rolled a nipple between his fingers, just hard enough to make you gasp at the sudden sensation. Nothing this man did was soft or gentle, but neither was it unpleasant. There was an edge to his actions, a shimmer of danger lurking underneath the surface that made you giddy.

 

He slipped out off his shirt, throwing you a look that instructed you to do the same. You leaned up to remove your clothes and caught his lips again, before burying your face in his neck. You eagerly nipped at his skin, making your way to his ear, where you ran your tongue along the shell. He hissed and sank his hand in the hair at the back of your head, pulling at it when you nibbled on his earlobe. You let yourself sink down again with a sigh. 

"Take them off." He nudged at your pants, getting off you so you could wriggle out of your lower garments. He watched, face set in a look of mild disinterest, as you kicked them off the bed. You palmed his crotch, running your fingers over the tightening fabric before moving towards his fly, but he pulled your wrist away and slid down the bed. With splayed fingers he ran his hands up your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh and working them open until you lay bare and vulnerable before him. He settled between them, head just centimetres from your cunt. You swallowed, suddenly very aware of the throbbing in your vagina. 

"What _have_ we here?" he said with a mischievous smile. 

 

With two calloused fingers, he spread your lower lips and surveyed your most intimate parts. He languidly ran one thumb from your cunt up to your clit, trailing moisture along your folds, looking up to see your reaction. Then he did it again, tracing the lines of your lips before rubbing slow circles around your sensitive nub. You clasped both hands over your mouth to stop a low noise from escaping.

Again and again he slid his thumb up your folds, making a few circles around your clit before retreating and repeating the whole process. The way he moved was close to torture. He would push a digit into your vagina, gliding it in for a mere second, not enough to give you any kind of relief. His tongue wetted his lips but he didn't move it any closer to your heat. You found your hips involuntarily bucking, but when you did that, his hands just pushed you deeper into the mattress. Whenever you mewled, he simply looked up at you with questioning eyes and a small smirk, before his thumb continued on its delicious path. 

It seemed to take forever, until you were covered in a sheen of sweat and your legs were trembling from the strain. You were on the verge of overstimulation, aching for friction, for release, when he finally stopped. 

 

"You know, it looks like you're about ready to beg, kitten," he said conversationally.

"Fuck," you whimpered.

He stroked the very centre of your clit, sending a sharp pulse through your body. "Hahhh, Hanamiya."

You fisted the sheets.

He sat up, looking at you expectantly.

"P-please," you whispered under your breath.

"Please what?"

"Please," your voice was hoarse and you had to look away to be able to say it, "I.. need you."

The bastard had actually made you blush. He stepped off the bed with a pleased expression on his face and removed the last of his clothes, penis red and hard and leaking pre-cum when it finally sprung free. You wondered how long he could have kept up this little game himself. He rolled on a condom and returned to kneel between your legs. 

 

Without another word, he eased into you, stretching you in a way that felt surprisingly full. You inhaled deeply and clenched around him, arching your back into the mattress. 

Every nerve end in your body bristled at the intrusion. Fuck that felt good. 

He pulled back and pushed into you again, faster this time, letting you adjust for a moment before settling into a rhythm that was altogether brutal. He leaned forward, lowering himself over you, hands searching for purchase on the mattress. 

The snap of his hips made you almost delirious. All you could see was the swaying of his hair and the muscles in his thighs working. All you could feel was the slapping beat of his skin lighting you on fire. His movements were controlled, measured. He knew exactly what he was doing and every move he made spun another thread, trapping you in his web and teasing you to breaking point. 

"You're already so close, aren't you?" he groaned, breath tense from exertion. 

In response, you pressed the back of your hand to your mouth to stop a low moan.

"Oh no, kitten, you don't get to do that," Hanamiya grabbed both your wrists and pushed them into the bed. He leaned closer to you and you lifted your head just inches to kiss him, sucking at his bottom lip to the sound of a low growl. 

Hanamiya shifted his hips, pressing his abdomen against you, the added friction wreaking havoc on your swollen clit. 

You let your head sink back, clenching around him as static started to build in your lower body.

"F-fuck," you whispered desperately, "Please, just. Don't stop."

When you looked up he was staring at you, studying you as if he was a scientist dissecting a hapless frog. His gaze burned so bright that you had to close your eyes, focusing instead on the throbbing in your cunt and the building tension that threatened to tip your entire being over the edge. You sucked in your lips, clenching and stilling your body until you finally breached that wall, breaking down in waves of shudders. 

 

There was no sound, no movement to indicate when he came. You only knew it had happened when he slowed, shortly after you regained your senses, and grew soft inside you. He sat, unmoving and with shallow breath, staying still for a moment before he pulled away from you and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Without a word, he got up to clean himself, leaving you to lie there catching your breath, your damp skin quickly growing cold. 

When he returned, Hanamiya threw you a small bottle of water.

"You look like you're dying," he mumbled.

"I'm not an athlete, Hanamiya-kun," you replied, opening the drink and gulping down half of its contents in one go. He rolled his eyes at your display.

"Scoot," he said, crawling onto the bed again. He leaned back, grabbing the water from your hand and taking small sips with his eyes closed.

 

You rolled closer to him. His skin was heated still, sticky with sweat in places. Softly, you pressed your lips to the spot above his belly button before making your way around, placing little kisses on his abdomen and up to his chest.

A hand wiped the hair out in front of your face and you looked up into clay brown eyes.

"What are you doing?" his voice was flat, seemingly devoid of emotion, his gaze questioning.

"What does it _look_ like I'm doing, Hanamiya-kun?" you smiled up at him and placed another kiss on his chest, not breaking eye contact.

"Are you trying to be cute?" His hand carded through your hair, brushing the strands away from your forehead.

"I _am_ cute, Hanamiya-kun," you said, chuckling.

He snorted. "Idiot."

"Are you going to deny it?" You nuzzled his shoulder and settled your head into the crook of his arm.

"Shut up," he said, but he made no move to push you away. So you lay there, closing your heavy eyes and letting a contented warmth spread through your limbs.

 

You must have dozed off, because when you looked up again, the clock read 2:35.

You sat up, causing the man next to you to stir slightly.

"I should go," you whispered, not sure if he was awake. You turned towards the edge of the bed, but a long arm slithered around your waist, pulling you back down.

"No, you don't." Hanamiya's voice was muffled, his face pressed against the hollow between your shoulder blades.

His breath was a soft breeze against your skin while you lay there considering the possible state of your apartment and the likely amount of drunk people currently in your bed.

"Hanamiya-kun, are you offering me breakfast?" you grinned against the darkness. 

He was quiet for a second, his heart beating calmly against your back.

"Sure, whatever," he mumbled, inching up so his head lay in the hollow of your neck.

Your hand reached down to pull the covers over both of you, and you settled back into slumber.

 


	3. It's called a steal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you watched the teams play on the court, it became viscerally clear to you why your room mate had a thing for athletes.  
> The squeak of rubber, the sway of jerseys, the very palpable excitement permeating the very air the crowd breathed.  
> It was fascinating.
> 
> You should not have come here.

The next morning you woke up to find yourself still very much trapped in the arms of Hanamiya Makoto. Carefully, you turned around to face him, eliciting a few grunts of protest.

He looked almost innocent when he was sleeping. Almost, but not quite.

You scanned his features closely, now that you had the chance. His eyebrows were downright weird, but they didn't stop him from being good looking. You delicately lifted a strand of hair away from his eyes and nearly shrieked when they suddenly shot open. He squinted at you.

"What the fuck."

"Good morning to you too, Hanamiya-kun," you beamed at his grumpy face.

He looked at you with an expression of utter disapproval.

"Of course she's a morning person," he mumbled.

You leaned up to press your lips to his nose, something that seemed to shock him. He blinked twice, staring at you in confusion.

"And _you_ promised me breakfast," you said brightly.

The man sighed and released you from his grip. "What do you want."

He turned away from you and stretched, the muscles under his pale skin shifting in a way you couldn't help but notice.

"Pancakes!" you said.

"Are you fucking serious?" He gave you a sideways glance.

"Fine, coffee then," you pouted.

He stepped out of the bed, cracking his neck and yawning widely.

"You get coffee and toast. That's it," he grumbled, putting on a tattered yukata.

He walked into the kitchen without looking back.

"Oh, and can I use your shower?" you hopped out of bed, your limbs still a little sore.

A grunt came from the kitchen and you assumed that was a yes.

"Thanks!" you shouted, picking parts of your outfit off the floor before making your way to the small, clean bathroom.

"Just hurry up," the voice of Hanamiya groaned.

 

In all honesty, you did not hurry up. Hanamiya's shower was much better than the one in your apartment and the warm water poured life back into your pained bones. You sighed contently and stood there, letting it rush over you while the room slowly filled up with steam.

When you finally got out, there was a plate with two pieces of toast and a jar of jam on the kitchen counter, next to a mug of coffee. You took the bread and happily bit into it, scanning the room for the rest of your possessions.

Hanamiya sat at his desk facing the wall, making some notes in a study book.

"You know, I'm disappointed," he said casually.

"Mmmph?" you looked up, mouth full of crumbs.

"I could have sworn you were the goodie-two-shoes type that goes to all the classes."

You frowned at his back. Then, with a small movement of his pen, he pointed toward the clock.

Five to nine.

You made a strangled noise and swallowed the rest of your toast while Hanamiya mumbled a soft 'Idiot' under his breath. You had no time to glare at him while you sprinted through the room to put on our shoes and figure out where you'd left your coat. You returned quickly to take a gulp of coffee before putting it on.

"Thanks for the breakfast," you said hurriedly.

Hanamiya did not look up from his notes. 

You dashed to the door, shouting a quick "Bye!" behind you before stepping out. 

The awkardness of those final moments settled in while you power walked to campus.

Well, that was... something.

 

"RU OK"

Several messages and a few missed calls cluttered your phone. Most of them from your room mate, wondering where the hell you'd gone off to. You quickly texted her to say you were fine, before borrowing paper and a pencil from the girl next to you and making a valiant attempt at concentrating on your morning's lecture.

When you finally got home, stomach grumbling and last night's clothes still smelling vaguely of weed, your room mate was waiting for you.

"Where did you go?" she asked as soon as you walked in. She'd mercifully started cleaning up the place.

"I just decided to sleep somewhere else, Aiko." You walked into your room and gathered your sheets, taking them straight to the washing machine while the other girl followed you around like a lovesick puppy.

"But where would you go at that time of night?" she babbled, her sleep deprived brain scratching the surface of some kind of memory. "We noticed you weren't here around midnight, but the party was still in full swing. The only person that had already left was...."

Her eyes grew wide as the pieces clicked into place.

Oh boy.

She came up to you and laid her hands dramatically on your shoulders.

"__-chan!" she wailed.

"What?"

"Oh my god! Are you ok?"

"I'm fine?"

"Are you sure? Did he... did you..." You did not want to think about the images currently flashing before Aiko's eyes. You simply lifted your eyebrows and gave her a look.

"Oh my god!"

"Aiko, will you calm down? You're acting like I never slept with a guy before."

"Ok, but this one is kind of an asshole."

You shrugged. "So is my ex."

When she kept staring at you like you'd just escaped from a burning car wreck, you sighed.

"Look, this was just a one time thing," you said. "I'm not about to turn it into a habit."

You grinned at your shocked friend. "Besides, he was pretty good."

"Oh my god!"

 

The next three weeks passed in complete peace and quiet.

Classes came and went, the parties in your apartment were kept to a minimum and you only dreamed about the dark haired bad boy twice. You were totally fine.

But then your room mate dragged you to your university's basketball game. She was dating the team's first string centre, a lanky boy with broad shoulders and a friendly smile, and needed someone to accompany her. By now, you were familiar with most of the team, but you'd only known them as tipsy men uncomfortably flirting with you, or as shy boys in desperate need of your lecture notes. You'd never seen them play. So when you walked into the small stadium by your friend's side, you weren't sure what to expect.

 

Admittedly, you'd thought about what would happen if you were to see Hanamiya again. And possibly about what might happen after that. But you could never have predicted that he would look the way he did. When you watched the teams on the court, it became viscerally clear to you why your room mate had a thing for athletes. 

There was power in the way they played. The men on the court moved with a speed and determination you found hopelessly intriguing. The squeak of rubber, the sway of jerseys, the very palpable excitement permeating the very air the crowd breathed. It was fascinating. 

You should not have come here. 

In Hanamiya, specifically, you saw something you hadn't noticed before. A focus, a look of concentration on his usually bored features. He was keeping track of all the players on the court, pointing things out to his team mates, calling plays. He handled the ball with a grace and skill you found astounding. Most of all: he was obviously enjoying himself.

It was cute.

Aiko erupted in cheers next to you when someone on your team scored a three-pointer and you sat back, sighing at the ceiling. You really should not have come here. 

 

After the game you stood in the bare hallway underneath the stadium with your room mate, who could barely contain herself. One by one, the players filed out of their changing room, greeting the gaggle of friends and lovers waiting for them. You listened politely to the first string shooting guard explaining how he'd made that one awesome shot and bowed to some of the other guys you knew, each of them happy and bouncy after their win. 

As soon as Aiko's boyfriend came into view, she flung herself in his arms, lips latching onto his skin. 

"Congratulations on your win," you smiled at the Centre. He grinned back.

"Please take good care of Aiko for me."

"Hmm?" she said, momentarily dislodging herself from the boy: "You're leaving?"

"I have some work to do," you replied, "I just wanted to make sure you were in good company first."

You smiled at the rest of the group, congratulating them again and waving before making your way outside. Some of the guys shouted at you to join them for drinks, but their raucous company was the last thing you needed right now. 

 

You were halfway down the street from the venue when Hanamiya appeared next to you, like you'd half expected him to do. He walked in silence, hands deep in the pockets of his coat.

"Congratulations," you said conversationally, "that was an interesting game."

He hummed. "Do you even know anything about basketball, angel girl?"

"Enough to see that you play it like a chess game," you said.

He gave you a sideways glance.

"You watch them, don't you? The opponents," you continued. "You learn how they play and then you rob the ball from them."

"It's called a steal," he mumbled.

"Steal the ball from them," you said, not missing a beat. "It's surprising, really, I heard you used to play quite underhanded."

"I used to do a lot of shit," he said, leaning back and looking at the night sky, "Not so much now."

"And why is that, Hanamiya-kun?"

"I'd get kicked off the team," he admitted. 

You looked at him. "How noble of you."

"What? I take what I can get," he chuckled. "It was always satisfying to see those bastards break, but it's just as entertaining to see the horror in their eyes when they figure out that they're trapped and have nowhere to go. I spent a lot of effort getting this good. May as well enjoy it while I can."

 

You walked quietly together until you reached the steps to your apartment.

"Thank you for walking me home, Hanamiya-kun," you said, turning to him and bowing.

He shrugged, looking off down the street. You stood there for a few heartbeats, watching this insufferable man in the orange glow of a street light. His eyes darted to you. You wetted your lips.

"Would you like to come in for some coffee?" you heard yourself say.

Hanamiya's face broke into a smug smile. "Sure."

 


	4. Iron Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hanamiya-kun."  
> His hands grabbed the wood behind you, trapping you in his arms.  
> "Yeeesss?" he intoned. He placed open mouthed kisses on the edge of your lips and down your jaw, towards the side of your neck.  
> You exhaled, body flooding with heat while you clung to him for dear life.  
> "Fuck," you whimpered as he sucked on the sensitive skin just under your ear.  
> "Very perceptive, angel girl, that's exactly what I want."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is Very NSFW.

Hanamiya followed you into the house and kicked off his shoes while you nervously put away his coat.

"Make yourself at home," you said, walking into the kitchen, "do you want coffee or tea? I think there's chocolate or cookies in here somewhere."

You were rummaging through the cupboards when two hands firmly grabbed your hips.

"Well, aren't you a perfect little hostess?" he murmured next to your ear, breath just barely perceptible on your skin. "I'm not really up for cookies, I'm afraid."

His voice was deep and dark and demanding. It sent a shiver down your spine. His hands turned you around so that his face was mere centimetres from yours, body pushing you toward the counter. Your palms clutched at the surface, desperate for something to hold onto and regain your balance.

Your lips parted and he leant in for a bruising kiss before breaking away with a smirk.

"Hanamiya-kun."

His hands grabbed the wood behind you, trapping you in his arms.

"Yeeesss?" he intoned. He placed open mouthed kisses on the edge of your lips and down your jaw, towards the side of your neck.

You exhaled, body flooding with heat while you clung to him for dear life.

"Fuck," you whimpered as he sucked on the sensitive skin just under your ear.

"Very perceptive, angel girl, that's exactly what I want."

You glared at him. He simply grinned and ran the nail of his right thumb over the curve of your hip, slightly too hard, too deep. It ran electricity up your spine and you had to bite your lip to stop another whimper. His eyes widened, just for a second.

 

"So, __, can I hurt you yet?"

The question made your skin crackle. The effect he had on you was scary, to say the least. The low murmur of his voice and the lingering threat of what he could do to you sent pinpricks through your body. You stayed quiet for a moment, thinking about how far you would take this. He nipped at your ear, making you hiss.

Fuck.

"Just don't break me," you finally said.

"My, my, kitten, you are just full of surprises." Hanamiya snaked an arm around your waist and pulled you close, the bulge in his pants poking your thigh. He took your chin in one hand and sucked on your bottom lip, before biting down.

A little moan escaped you and you slipped your hands under his shirt, gliding your fingers over his bare skin, kneading the sinewy muscle on his lower back.

"Will you stop if I ask?" you said when he pulled back.

He huffed, a wry smile appearing on his face.

"Tell you what, kitten," he replied, slowly unbuttoning your shirt, "if you really want me to back off, say 'iron heart'."

You frowned at him.

"It kills the mood for me," he shrugged. He'd opened your blouse halfway, his hands finding their way under it. If you thought he had lacked delicacy with you before, it now became apparent that he'd been holding back. Every movement of his hands lingered. Every line his fingers drew left a trail of reddened skin behind. His touch burned and bruised and it made you weak at the knees.

When he slid his hands down to take off your skirt, you pushed him away.

"Not here," you said.

"Tsk."

You very much remembered your room mate's reaction to the mere news of your bed partner. You didn't want to kill the poor girl.

 

You walked to your room, quickly grabbing a bottle of soda on the way. He followed, closing the door behind him and pulling his tie loose.

"All set, princess?" he asked, voice playing at irritation.

You leaned in to kiss him in reply.

"Good. Now get out of those clothes before I rip them off you."

He stood against the door, arms folded, and watched you undress before him. He admired your form for a few seconds, head tilted slightly. Then he stepped forward and laid his hands on you again, fingers pressing deep into your sides. You gasped and he nudged your head to the side, teeth grazing your throat, stirring something deep inside your core. You closed your eyes and slid your hands across his chest, clawing at his tie.

He moved his mouth to your ear, breath ghosting the shell. "Get on your knees."

You blinked up at him, swallowing hard. He gave a short nod to the bed, face completely impassive.

While he took off his clothes, you did as you were told, sitting on the mattress with your feet tucked under your butt. He stood before you, stark naked, one hand on his hardening erection as he brought it to your face.

"Suck."

You opened your mouth and carefully folded it around his penis. He inhaled, closing his eyes for a second, savouring your tongue. You ran it down the bottom of his cock before coming back up and making small circles around the tip.

His hand moved to your hair, carding it away from your face. He was looking down at you with a small smile on his lips.

"Now who taught you how to do that, angel girl?"

Without warning, he gripped your hair tight and thrust, making you choke. You made a protesting noise and looked up to see him grin outright.

"Don't go glaring at me, kitten, you're loving this."

You pushed yourself off him, grazing his member with your teeth. He sucked in a breath, hand letting go of your hair. For a moment, the two of you scowled at each other. Then you took his penis in your hand, stroking it at a relaxed pace.

When you opened your mouth for him again, he moved slower, giving you the opportunity to familiarize yourself with his length. His eyes fluttered, just a little, when you ran your tongue over the seam below his cock head. You closed your lips around the rim, licking the salt out of the slit. He was quickly growing harder under your tongue, something that gave you a small surge of pride. You were fairly certain you could make him come like this, but he pulled away before you could find out.

 

"Move up a bit," he said, motioning toward the bed.

You slid up to make room and leaned back, but he stopped you.

"Oh no, kitten, you're staying on your knees. Turn around."

You did so. He gave your butt a little slap.

"Up."

You complied, face burning, and moved onto your hands and knees while he rubbed small circles over your thighs. You had to suppress a small whimper when you felt his hand slip between your legs.

"Spread."

Long fingers made their way between your lower lips and you closed your eyes, feeling them rub moisture up to your clit. His touch sent sparks through your lower regions, soothing an ache that had been building up all evening. You needed so much more than this. Your hips pushed into his hand and he chuckled.

Hanamiya bent himself over you.

"Dear kitten, you're dripping," he stated near your ear. "Does it scare you how much you want this?"

"Should it?" you said, voice hoarse with the effort of trying to keep it together.

He pressed two fingers into your vagina and you groaned.

"If word of this gets out, that squeaky reputation of yours would be in tatters," he said, exploring every ridge inside of you.

"Hahh." His thumb had found its way to your clit and your thighs started trembling.

Too soon, he withdrew his hand and licked his fingers.

"You don't taste not half bad, angel girl," he remarked. "Tastes like desperation."

He leaned over again, his hardness brushing against your thigh.

"Tell me something, __. How badly do you want me right now?"

"Mhhh," you mewled as he scraped a single nail up your spine. You nodded, not entirely sure if you could make a full sentence.

"Mhhh? That bad, huh." His hand ran down your back and squeezed your ass.

"I'll be nice, this time," he said, "It's hard to resist a girl on her knees, you know?"

He stepped off the mattress.

"Don't move."

You heard the rip of a condom packet and closed your eyes, trying to calm your breath, entire body shivering with anticipation. The mattress dipped under his weight when he returned. You clenched your fists and braced yourself for what you assumed was coming as he moved behind you.

 

Two hands sharply gripped your sides and with one thrust he was inside you.

"Fuck!" you cried. He stilled for a moment, his thumbs rubbing circles on your back, while you adjusted to the dull ache of him being there. Then he pulled out slowly and did it again. You clenched down, savouring the feeling of him. He quickly picked up the pace, pushing to the very edge of what your body allowed, making you groan with every thrust. He was merciless. His fingers grabbed at your thighs, holding them in place with bruising force. Your body shook, a strange mixture of pain and pleasure threatening to burn you up.

"Touch yourself." A low growl came from behind you and you almost welcomed the command, moving one hand to your clit to alleviate the throbbing in your gut. You sucked in your bottom lip and moved your hands with practised precision. The onslaught on your senses meant you had to rub harder than usual to even find the spots that would tip you over the edge. When you did find it, you let out a high pitched breath.

Hanamiya moved one hand up your spine and slid his fingers in your hair, pulling your head back. You tensed at the sudden feeling, pressure becoming almost too much to bear.

And there it was. Violent and sudden, with the power of a stampede. He let go and you convulsed, dropping your face into a pillow to stifle a series of cries that failed to stop as wave after wave crashed into you.

 

"Good girl," Hanamiya rasped, letting his nails drag along your sweat-cooled skin for a final few thrusts. He came to a halt, breathing heavily while you felt him shudder inside of you. A few moments later he pulled out and lay down on the bed, muscles in his thighs twitching from the effort. You let yourself sink into the mattress, groaning quietly into your pillow before rolling onto your back, your body quivering as the spasms of your orgasm slowly died down.

"Fuck," you breathed.

"You did say I could," he mumbled and he reached over you to grab the soda bottle by the bed.

"That was not a complaint, Hanamiya-kun."

He simply snorted and took a few sips before handing you the drink. He watched as you took big gulps of the sweet liquid, put the cap back on and placed it on the floor. When you came back up his lips were on your forehead, his fingers in your hair. He brushed a few wet strands away from your face with a gaze that bordered on tender. You blinked at him in confusion.

When his eyes found yours, he jerked back. You couldn't help but smile. He looked like he was just caught standing over a dead body with a dagger in his hand. He quickly swung his legs over the side of the bed and walked to the small sink in your room. You gathered the sheets around you and hugged your knees, watching him clean himself up. He started putting on his clothes, shooting a scowl in your direction when you kept observing him.

"I'm off," he stated.

"Hmmmm? I'm willing to offer you pancakes, Hanamiya-kun." You smiled as he wrestled with his jeans.

He stared at you for a second and you could swear you saw something like longing. It was brief, and you were probably imagining it, because he looked away to grab his jacket, and when he came back up any emotion had drained from his face.

"See ya."

And he was gone.

 


	5. Signature move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, there it was.  
> The sneer. He was finally acting like you expected him to. You'd dredged up his worst side and laid it bare.

You fell back into the pillows with a sigh and listened to the click of the front door. 

The warm afterglow in your body was slowly being replaced with something colder, more empty. You ran your fingers over your clammy skin, the darkening bruises on your hips, the groaning muscles in your thighs. That was going to hurt in the morning. You rolled out of bed and took a very long shower. 

When you came out, skin wrinkled and mouth parched, your room mate was cuddled on the couch with the Centre, watching the opening credits of a movie. 

Aiko smiled benevolently at you as you shuffled past, lugging a bottle of water with you. "Wanna join us?"

"No thanks," you replied, waving at the Centre, "I'm exhausted. I think I'll have an early night."

You closed your bedroom door and leaned against it, swallowing down a lump in your throat. 

It wouldn't go away. A heavy weight was pushing down on your lungs and you wanted to cry, but you'd be damned if you were going to be that weak. 

Instead, you crawled into bed and watched video's of cute animals on your laptop until you fell asleep. 

 

The next morning you woke up disoriented and angry. 

Your legs hurt. The marks on your skin mercifully did not, but they didn't exactly look pretty either. 

The corgi's frolicking on your screen managed to distract you for a few minutes, but nothing more. 

The smell of him permeated your sheets. 

You groaned. 

This was getting ridiculous. 

You sat up and sipped water while you recalled the times when you had to supply tea and a listening ear to some his previous partners. There was the boy who had dated him out of innocent interest in his first year. There was a woman who considered herself dangerous, but turned out to be no match for what he had in store. There was even a hopelessly naive one who considered him a man worth saving, someone seeking redemption.

And you remembered how he treated each of them. With disdain, like they didn't mean anything, a temporary diversion, a tick-box to be checked off and discarded. He reacted to confessions with derision and to tears with sneering scorn.

You were not about to fall for this man, not any further than you'd already done.

You had to put a stop to this.

When you finally got up, the first thing you did was wash your sheets.

 

While the bruises on your skin slowly faded, your mood lightened. You found yourself working hard, staying late to study at the library and going to all the rehearsals for your play, even the ones where you just sat and watched. You flirted with one of the understudies and went out for drinks more often than you should.

A few days later, a text lit up your phone.

"Hey. This is Hanamiya."

You decided you didn't want to know how he'd found your phone number, but you saved his as 'DONTANSWER'.

He tried two more times.

 

One afternoon, he simply stood there in the hallway outside your lecture hall when your class ended.

"So you've been ignoring my texts," he said casually when you walked past him.

"I never gave you my number, Hanamiya-kun."

He smiled a mischievous smile, keeping tread with you. "Now you're playing hard to get?"

"I don't play at anything," you said, looking straight ahead, "I hear you're a smart cookie, surely you know the deeper meaning behind ignored text messages."

His thick brows knitted together slightly before he regained his composure.

"Hmm, so you're not coming over tonight to get fucked until you can no longer stand?"

"Correct."

"You think I'll take no for an answer." It was a statement, more than a query. His voice produced a hint of a threat, but less than you'd expect of him. He actually sounded a little hurt.

"You will have to," you stated.

He walked with you in silence while you sped up as much as you could without getting out of breath.

"Why?" His voice came low and deliberately flat.

You halted in your steps to blink at him.

"You seemed to be enjoying our little arrangement so far," he added, looking off into the distance.

"This is not the kind of relationship I'm looking for."

He laughed, a high pitched sound filled with dark mirth. "You think we have a relationship?"

"No, Hanamiya-kun, I don't."

He seemed taken aback for a moment before a smirk crawled onto his face like a vampire rising from the grave.

"Is that what you want?" he asked, one eyebrow cocked.

"No."

"Suddenly you're too good to be someone's fuck buddy?"

"Please stop that, Hanamiya-kun." You did not have as much control over your voice as you would like. There was a crack in it that you quickly swallowed down. But like the predator he was, he immediately pounced.

He leaned closer.

"Are you falling for me, angel girl?"

 

Ah, there it was.

The sneer. He was finally acting like you expected him to. You'd dredged up his worst side and laid it bare. 

"Go away," you said.

"Does the little angel girl want a boyfriend to hold her hand and buy her pretty baubles?" he lilted.

You shot him a warning look, heat rising in your face. "That's enough, Hanamiya."

"Does she want to go on sappy dates and cuddle on the couch?"

"Get away from me!"

You shoved him, voice much louder and more shrill than anticipated. He stood still, eyes blank for a second. A group of your classmates came up to see what the commotion was about.

You took a deep breath and glowered into his clay brown eyes. His lips parted to speak but you turned around before he could. 

"See ya," you snarled and walked off. 

 

The very next day, the boy from your rehearsals asked you out. You said yes.

Dating him was... an experience. He was nice. He showered you with affection. He took you on dates to ice cream parlours and he walked with you to and from your classes. He would hold your hand and occasionally he'd stop you just to look in your eyes. He did all those things you had always been told you wanted. 

Your room mate proclaimed him to be perfect. 

It was like you had been dropped into a cheesy romance movie. 

If you were honest with yourself, it was a bit much. You tried to quickly stop that train of thought. The very idea made you feel guilty and undeserving of happiness. So you smiled at him when he proclaimed his love for you, and you leaned into him when watching movies on the couch together, wondering all the while what was wrong with you. 

 

You found out when the basketball team held a big fund-raising party and Aiko dragged both you and your new boyfriend to it. 

For most of the night, you were on edge, refusing to drink alcohol and basically remaining polite and civil, while constantly on your guard. You were not exactly having fun. Your boyfriend was mercifully oblivious. He chatted, he joked, he got pulled onto the dance floor by some of the guys and now he was there, flailing in a way that vaguely resembled a dance move. 

"What an idiot," Hanamiya said, slinking out of the shadows next to you. 

"Shut up."

"What the hell do you see in that."

You smiled at his mean girl impression.

"He's a good man," you replied.

"Booooring," he sang in your ear.

"Please stop that, Hanamiya-kun." You gave your boyfriend a reassuring wave when he threw a nervous glance in your direction.

"And what the hell is 'a good man'?" Hanamiya spat the last three words as if they were a vile poison. "Is he fixing world hunger? Does he rescue doggies from drainpipes?" 

You rolled your eyes.

"Or is he just going through a list of Cosmo tips on romance? Is that what it takes these days?"

He sneered into your scowl.

"Is there a point to you harassing me?" you shot at him. 

Hanamiya just stood looking at the dance floor with apparent disinterest. "Does he know what you really want, angel girl? What you need?"

"Why, do you?" you huffed.

But of course he did. Hanamiya didn't just push your buttons, he played them like a pianist. He took your nerves apart and fashioned them into a harp no one else could draw music from. His presence next to you was making you nervous and annoyed and excited at the same time. You took a deep breath.

"Jealousy does not suit you, Hanamiya-kun," you said and the man snorted. 

Your boyfriend walked over and placed a protective arm around your waist.

"Hi, have we met?" he asked.

"This is Hanamiya-kun," you said brightly, ignoring the glint in Hanamiya's eye and the dangerous curl on his lips. "He's on the basketball team."

"Oh, I've heard of you," your boyfriend said politely, "you're the one that keeps taking the other team's ball."

"It's called a steal," you said, to Hanamiya's obvious joy.

"You could say it's my signature move," he said, grinning. He winked at your boyfriend and walked away.

 

The two of you broke up a week later. 

You had tried, you really did. But there was nothing there. 

"I'm turning into a horrible person," you told Aiko that evening. 

You retreated to your room and watched a cat café stream until you fell asleep. 

 


	6. Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He pulled one hand out of his pocket to cup your chin, his thumb rubbing lightly over your cheek. You leaned in to him and could feel him grin as he kissed you.  
> It was the kind of kiss that made your knees weak. It was warm and powerful and you would never know how he managed to do it with just his lips but when he broke away he left you out of breath and almost whimpering for more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild NSFW warning, but nothing you can't handle if you made it up to here.

You were on your way home from a lecture, pondering your inability to date like a normal person, when Hanamiya came up to you, grabbed your upper arm and dragged you along. 

"Come on," he said. 

"Hanamiya-kun? What?" You wrung yourself out of his grip. "What the hell are you doing?"

He glared at you. "Apparently you're the type that needs to be treated like a princess, so I'm taking you to a coffee shop."

He grabbed your arm again.

"Wait, what?" You refused to move.

"What?" he said, face hard with irritation.

You couldn't help but laugh at the situation. "Hanamiya-kun, are you ... are you trying to take me on a date?"

His eyes were deadpan. "So?"

"Shouldn't you ask me, first?" you giggled, wondering if he was doing this on purpose.

"Like you're gonna say no?"

You huffed, crossing your arms. The boy sighed deeply, as if this was the most trying thing he'd ever done.

"__-saaannnn, would you go on a date with me?" he singsonged, looking towards the clouds.

You tilted your head and watched him quietly fume. It was amusing, at least. There was no doubt in your mind that you were going to regret this one, but you were already too curious to back away now.

"Very well, Hanamiya-kun," you finally supplied.

He rolled his eyes and started walking again. 

"Let's go already."

 

The place he took you to was not one of the popular coffee houses near campus. The two of you walked to an older part of town, where he entered a small café that seemed to cater mostly to the business crowd. In the middle of the day it was almost empty. 

"I've never been to this one," you chatted, studying the menu. 

"The coffee is good," Hanamiya shrugged.

The man behind the counter gave your date a short bow.

"Black?"

Hanamiya nodded.

When the barista saw you, his face broke into a wide smile. At least you assumed he saw you. A floppy mane of oddly coloured light hair reached over his eyes. He kept grinning while he took your order and you wondered how many times Hanamiya came here, and how often he'd brought someone with him.

"Take a seat, I'll bring it right out," the barista smirked.

 

The two of you sat in a corner by the window and talked about your play. Hanamiya had actually heard of it, though he preferred some of the author's other work. Something about the plot of this one being highly convoluted. When your drinks came, the barista lingered, grinning that weirdly mischievous grin of his.

"Go on then," he said. "Introduce me."

Hanamiya looked away and rolled his eyes.

"She's cute," the barista continued and Hanamiya shot him a warning glance, which he promptly ignored.

"Hi, I'm Hara," he grinned at you.

"__, pleased to meet you," you replied, bowing slightly.

"__-chan you look normal," Hara said. "What are you doing here with him? You could..."

"Hara." Hanamiya's voice could cut through glass.

"Well, better get back to work," Hara stated cheerfully. He gave you a little wave before returning to his counter.

You tilted your head at your date. "Friend of yours?"

"He's an idiot," came the reply and you smiled into your drink.

He had been right about this place, at least. The coffee was pretty good. You savoured it, listening to Hanamiya talk about his views on Pikketty's economic theories while the man called Hara grinned at you from a distance. It was a deeply confusing experience, but you enjoyed it.

The boy had Interests and Ideas. And while he seemed to despise an awful lot of things, he didn't hate Everything.

Right here, right now, he was being... pleasant, even if in the course of explaining his thoughts on capitalism he called several world leaders rude names. And you wondered again if he was doing it on purpose.

 

"Thank you for that," you said when he walked you to your door, "I... actually had a good time, today." 

There was surprise in your voice and you giggled at his glowering face. 

"What are you trying to do to me, Hanamiya-kun?"

He sighed and closed in on you, putting his nose mere centimetres from yours. "What do you think?"

"What makes you believe I'll put out on a first date?" you asked, giving him a sly glance.

"Pretending to be stupid is not a good look on you __," he said.

"You mean you're not going through all that trouble just to get me in bed, Hanamiya-kun?"

"Tch."

He pulled one hand out of his pocket to cup your chin, his thumb rubbing lightly over your cheek. You leaned in to him and could feel him grin as he kissed you. 

It was the kind of kiss that made your knees weak. It was warm and powerful and you would never know how he managed to do it with just his lips but when he broke away he left you out of breath and almost whimpering for more. 

He let go of you and you licked your lips. He took a step back and looked at you from beneath heavy eyelids. 

"Goodnight then," he said calmly, not moving an inch. 

"Hanamiya-kun?" you sucked in both lips.

A knowing smile crept onto his lips like the rising moon. You swallowed thickly.

"Would you like to come in?" You tried to keep your face in its most innocent position, but he'd already won the battle. He knew it, too. He shrugged, smirk never leaving his face, and followed you inside. 

 

Since your room mate was halfway across the country, visiting relatives, you didn't even bother to register where your clothes fell as they littered the floor like leaves in autumn. They formed a trail to your bedroom, where the two of you had finally crashed, writhing on the mattress in a tangle of limbs, impatient and hungry for touch.

There was something altogether desperate in the way he kissed you, the way his hands roamed up your sides and cupped your breasts. 

"Take it easy," you murmured when you finally caught a breath, but all he did in response was kiss you deeper. His fingers dragged feverishly over your skin as if they wanted to brand it, make it his. You were all too willing to let him. 

His mouth found its way down your body, leaving red marks wherever he stopped, strands of black hair brushing softly against your skin. He was claiming a little piece of you with every suckling breath and you hissed and burned beneath it. But you didn't want him to stop, not here, not now that he was so close to you, his hands searing and commanding against your body. 

You reached across the mattress to your night stand and when you presented him with the condom he didn't even tease you about it. He took the packet from your hand and slipped it on before returning to your arms. When he finally pressed into you, it was slow and deliberate. His skin was hot against yours as he cradled you, moving in and out in time to your muffled cries. He studied you, registering every whimper, every mewl you made, filing away the knowledge of what you liked, no doubt so he could offer or withhold it at some later date. And you didn't care, because right now he was giving you everything you wanted.

"Ha- Hanamiya..." you moaned and he shook his head at you.

"Say my name." His voice was husky and raw, his eyes glazed with lust. You stared at him for a second.

"M-makoto," you whispered against his mouth.

His lips pressed against yours and his hips snapped, sending a pulse through your whole being while you tensed around him. 

"Makoto," you spoke softly and he buried his head in the crook of your shoulder. He thrust, clawing at the sheets and occasionally at your back, grabbing your senses and wrenching them loose until there was nothing left but frayed edges and two people panting into sweat stained sheets. 

 

The clock read midnight when the two of you were finally spent. Your skin tingled, raw and swollen, and your muscles ached. You felt oddly relaxed. He lay on top of you, eyes heavy with sleep while your fingers brushed the hair away from his face. They lightly made their way down, dancing across sharp shoulders while he played with your breasts. 

"You made a mess of me, Makoto. That's going to show in the morning," you muttered, indicating the purple marks he left all over your skin.

"Good," he said, moving up your torso to lie next to you.

"Now shut up and go to sleep." He pulled you into him, burying his nose in your damp hair. You listened to his breath slow down while you felt yourself drift off.

 

It took some doing, but the next morning, you'd extracted yourself from Hanamiya's grasp. You sat on the couch finishing up a last minute paper - the one you were _supposed_ to write the day before - when the boy finally woke up. Some grumpy sounds coming from your bedroom announced his arrival in the land of the living. He shambled into sight and leaned against the doorway, groggily taking in your sparkling eyes. He sighed heavily.

"There'd better be coffee, __"

You grinned at him. "I brewed some this morning. There's pancakes as well."

Hanamiya rolled his eyes and shuffled into the kitchen. When he returned, he was carrying a mug and a plate. He sat down next to you with crossed legs and started munching, occasionally frowning at your screen.

"Second paragraph, third line, that's not how grammar works, __," he said eventually. 

You gave him a sideways glance. "This is a draft, Makoto," you answered, quickly rereading and amending that line. 

"Is it, now?" A grin spread over his sharp features, lighting up the sepia undertones in his eyes. 

"Shut up," you huffed. 

He leaned against you, mocking any typo he could find but still managing to help make your work presentable in time for your deadline. 

"You know, these aren't half bad," he said when he finished his breakfast.

You blinked at him. "Was that... did you just compliment me?" 

He rolled his eyes. 

"Your coffee is awful though." 

He downed it anyway.

 


	7. Work

Bit by bit, Hanamiya eased himself into your life. 

On campus, he mostly ignored you, pretending that you two were nothing more than acquaintances. It irked you, but you decided not to push the point. Certainly because your room mate wasn't taking this new series of events too well. It didn't help that the boy was a barely restrained ball of annoyance whenever she was around. 

So you spent a lot of time at Hanamiya's place. 

Alone with you, he was surprisingly good company. It turned out that while he hated parties, Hanamiya did enjoy quieter evenings. He would read with his back leaning against you while you worked or played around on your laptop.

And he would not stop touching you. As if the mere act of leaving some distance would immediately take you away from him. He would curl long arms around you when you cooked. He would cage you when you slept in his bed. He would lie on top of you, pinning you to the couch when you watched tv together. He adored horror movies and of course he always cheered for whatever monster appeared, taunting the poor teenagers getting ripped to shreds while you hid behind your hands. 

If you were perfectly honest with yourself, you were proud that a man such as him could be so affectionate with you. It made you feel wanted. You loved it, even if you knew in the back of your head that you shouldn't. Images of the lovers he'd scorned would sometimes float into your vision, but they quickly dissipated.

With every touch, Hanamiya quietly tore down the defences you put up, dismantling your hesitation to fall for him. Brick by brick he got to you and you were content to let him in. Despite your best efforts on the contrary, and without anything of the sort being explicitly stated, you started considering yourself his girlfriend.

 

The next time you came into Hara's coffee shop for a date, you found him grinning wider than usual.

"Hi __-chan! Hanamiya won't be around until later," he said, "He got called into work. Emergency."

You tilted your head at him. "Work?"

"Yeah, something about expertise and the boss not being around."

You frowned. "What... work?"

Hara guffawed. "Oh deary me, am I divulging secrets?" He grinned mischievously. "It's just down the street if you wanna check it out. Place called The Cabinet. Tiny store front."

 

You'd been dating for damn near two months now and this was the first you ever heard of Hanamiya having 'work'. It was intriguing, to say the least. Waving at Hara, you stepped back out and walked down the street. You must have been here a dozen times now but you had never noticed anything called The Cabinet. Even looking for it, you nearly missed the place: a thin wooden store front with a small dusty window. 

A brass bell tinkled brightly when you entered and you immediately got caught in the glare of a tall man sitting at a desk near the front. He had unruly black hair and a mole in the middle of his forehead. 

"I'm just browsing," you said sheepishly when he would not stop squinting at you. He grunted before leaning back, apparently satisfied with that answer. He closed his eyes and seemingly fell asleep in front of your confused face. 

Huh. 

You looked around nervously. 

The place was a bookshop, mostly focused on science tracts. The front part had student books for some of the more specialised subjects, as well as expensive made-to-order tomes for professors and businesses. In the back was what amounted to an antique store. Dusty tomes, first prints of ancient texts, even a fortified glass cabinet with actual scrolls. You were surprised you'd never heard of this shop. Sometimes, it seemed like Hanamiya moved in a world entirely different from yours. 

He was standing in the museum bit of the store, talking to a middle aged man. On the small desk between them lay a book so old a mere look could reduce it to dust. He glanced up and scowled when he saw you enter. You innocently studied the bookshelves while he finished his business.

 

"I'm going to kill Hara," Hanamiya said as he came up to you. "Let's go."

He made to leave, but you stood still, staring at his back. 

"What?" he sighed.

"You work here," you stated.

"Yeah?"

"You are studying Economic theory ànd Physics, while being in the basketball team. And you work here." 

You blinked at him while he acted like you were a child, observing that the sky was blue.

"So?"

"When exactly do you sleep?" you asked.

He rolled his eyes. "Just because you take forever to write a paper..." 

You tilted your head at him, amused smile on your face.

"Are you done? Because I'm not even on the clock right now."

The other employee sniggered behind him, causing Hanamiya to whip around.

"And YOU, shut up. You owe me."

"Yes, boss," the man said, coughing into his hand to compose himself.

"Let's go already." Hanamiya practically dragged you out while you quickly bowed at his smirking colleague.

He only let go when you were back outside, the heavy door slamming shut behind you.

"I'll walk you home," he grumbled. 

"Well aren't you the perfect gentlemen," you giggled. 

"Shut up."

 

"So what do you do there?" you tentatively asked when he'd stopped fuming.

"Sell books."

"No shit, Sherlock," you said. "Why do books have emergencies?"

He rolled his eyes. "I know their catalogue, and when some idiot comes in with a stupid question about one of the expensive ones, I sometimes go and answer it."

He mumbled something under his breath about people being too dumb to look shit up themselves and suddenly the thought struck you.

"Oh my god, you're a grumpy librarian!" you shrieked.

He sighed deeply. "I just told you, we _sell_ them."

He shoved your shoulder when you continued to giggle. "Stop that."

 

"So why do you work there?" you asked next.

"They pay me, __. Exchange of goods and services?"

"I just assumed you'd at least have a scholarship or something with all those courses and the sports," you said, mostly to yourself.

"I do," he replied. "I have two, in fact."

You walked on in silence, occasionally throwing him a sideways glance until he finally got fed up. 

"Look," he said, exasperated, "I'm renting a studio in Sengoku, Tokyo. Alone. Because I don't want to deal with overly dramatic room mates." He shot you a glance, which you politely ignored.

"This way, my mom doesn't have to pay for anything," he said under his breath, staring bluntly ahead in a way that spelled out you had better drop this particular line of conversation. 

 

You, however, were a very inquisitive person. From what you understood after careful probing over the course of several weeks, Hanamiya's mother had spent most of his life holding down two different retail jobs in order to raise him with some measure of comfort. There was no father to speak of. 

His mother was also, you discovered, Hanamiya's biggest weakness. 

One time she called him when you were around and you could _hear_ his voice soften when he said 'Hi mom'. 

You stared at him, eyes wide and a surprised smile on your lips, causing him to glare back and step out the door. Obviously the world would end if you heard him say 'love you to, mom'. Which you did, because you just so happened to need something from your coat hanging next to the front door. 

When he returned, you pulled him onto the couch with you and pecked little kisses onto his face until he swatted you away. 

 

 

 


	8. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let me tie you up."  
> "You... what?" You stared at him.  
> "You may not care to admit it, __," he said, chin resting on his palm as he bent over the table toward you, "but you love that sort of thing. Now, let me tie you up and have my way with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case the opening line doesn't make it clear, this whole chapter is pure, undiluted sin.

"Let me tie you up."

Summer had rolled around and you sat at the low table in Hanamiya's studio, drinking iced barley tea and trying to make sense of your notes.

"You... what?" You stared at him.

"You may not care to admit it, __," he said, chin resting on his palm as he bent over the table toward you, "but you love that sort of thing. Now, let me tie you up and have my way with you."

You straightened your back and swallowed thickly. As if he didn't already have his way with you.

But you couldn't deny that the statement stirred something much like excitement within you and you mentally kicked yourself when you noticed you were biting your bottom lip. He smiled darkly.

"Makoto..."

"Hmm, don't you trust me?" He scooted closer to you and you looked away.

"Um."

"You wound me, __," he murmured, before slipping his arm around your shoulder and kissing your temple.

 

A few hours later you were sitting on his bed, naked, watching him pull a cord of black silk rope out of a drawer.

"You already own this stuff?" you squeaked, nerves getting the better of your voice.

He cocked an eyebrow at you. Of course he did.

"Hold out your hands."

You did so, trembling slightly. He grabbed your wrists and wrapped them in thick coils, pulling the rope tight, but not tight enough to burn. He ran the tip of his tongue over his lips as he admired his handiwork, checking to make sure your blood flow wasn't cut off anywhere. 

You squirmed in an attempt to work the rope off, but it wasn't going anywhere.

"Look at you being a nervous little kitten," Hanamiya purred.

You swallowed. "Makoto, I..."

Slowly, he ran his fingers over your scalp.

"Do you remember your safe word, __?" His eyes were heavy and his smile sharp.

You nodded, the tension of the situation magnifying every touch, every gesture.

"Good girl," he praised and he ran his thumb over your lips before pushing it between your teeth. Instinctively, you sucked on it. A small smile played on his face as he leaned down to kiss you, ever so softly, and pushed you onto the bed. He held your bound wrists above your head, where he tied them to the headboard. 

 

Hanamiya, you had learned, was capable of being gentle. He could be slow. Torturously so. To him, it hardly mattered what he did, as long as he was in control. What he wanted was to see you fall apart by any means necessary. With the right mood, he could turn your skin into a tapestry of butterflies. And apparently, that's what he was going for as he ran his hands down the length of your body, forming a trail of goosebumps. He pried open your legs and brushed the soft skin on the inside of your thighs with the back of his hand. You exhaled, trying hard to keep your breath calm, but your skin was running hot and cold under his touch. Even the places that were never sensitive before seemed to shiver from a simple caress.

"I was right," he noted calmly, stroking your sides with the flat of his hand, "You are very into this."

His fingers walked back up your abdomen and you whimpered as he lay them to rest between your breasts.

"You're already a mess and I haven't even gotten to the good part yet."

He grinned at you, a grin that spelled all kinds of trouble.

 

He got up and walked to the drawer where his toys were stashed.

"Makoto, what the hell are you doing?" You wriggled as he came back to the bed, carrying something you couldn't make out in the dim light. He lay a finger on your lips.

"Shh, don't make me gag that pretty little mouth of yours. I have plans for that."

A low buzzing sound spread across the room. 

"Oh god," you gasped when he skimmed the vibrator over your breasts.

"No gods here, kitten," he whispered, running circles around your nipples and studying your reaction. When it didn't turn you into a blushing wreck, he moved the device down, languidly sliding it over your tummy and tickling your sides before moving it up the inside of your thighs with a sly smile.

"Nngh," you pressed your mouth shut tight to stop the noises that were bubbling up in your throat.

"Spread your legs for me, kitten," he murmured, "Open up nice and wide. That's it."

His voice was soothing and commanding at once. Slowly, he slipped the vibrator between your folds, holding it against your vulnerable skin. The buzzing travelled through your bones and you gripped the rope that bound you.

Hanamiya smiled. A real smile that lit up his features. He watched you with a twinkle in his eye, gliding the vibrator down to your vagina and back up your slick lips to your clit.

 

His movements were methodical as he slipped up and down, up and down while you squirmed beneath him. There was a small curl to his mouth when he made this same trajectory again, taking it down even further, to your anus.

"Hey!" you yelped, panicking slightly.

He raised his eyebrows.

"No? Hmm, perhaps another time."

He moved the device back up and slowly pushed it into your cunt, moving it in and out a few times before leaving it there, allowing the tremors to take hold of your lower body. With two fingers, he rubbed half moons around your clit.

"You know, I don't think I've seen you this wet before," he said conversationally.

He extracted his slick fingers and lay them on your open, panting mouth, coating your lips in your own desire. Then he leaned in and kissed you, licking you clean and suckling at the soft flesh with the wettest, dirtiest sound you'd ever heard. 

"You're a little pervert, aren't you angel girl," he growled against your cheek. He sat back up and sucked on his fingers, taking them out of his mouth with a small pop before moving his attention downwards again.

 

He brushed your clit quickly, sending a jolt up your body.

"You could come like this," he stated matter-of-factly. You nodded, desperately clutching at the vibrator, hips bucking into his hand for release.

"I want you to wait."

You frowned at him, eyes squinting slightly under the beads of sweat adorning your brow.

"I want to play with you some more." He gave you a look filled with fire. "You think you can do that, kitten?"

Slowly, you nodded again, breath sharp and shallow.

"Good girl," he said, kissing your cheek, and the praise washed over you like rain in a desert.

He got to work, toying and teasing you, stroking every sensitive part of your overworked body until he found the cracks, and then picking and prying at those. All the while he carried the kind of benevolent Mona Lisa smile you never thought you'd see on his face. He was utterly enjoying himself.

"Makoto, please," you whimpered after what seemed like forever.

Your were drenched in sweat and every single fibre in your body stood on end. You doubted you could take much more of this.

Hanamiya nodded.

 

He stepped off the mattress and removed his clothes, fisting his erection while he crouched next to your head. He kissed you deeply before kneeling down.

"Open up," he whispered, the tip of his penis millimetres from your mouth. You wetted your lips and complied, folding them around him as he thrust, slowly, carefully.

"Fuck that feels good," he groaned. His fingers were on your head, raking through your hair as you lapped at the taste of sea and salt.

When you started to feel him twitch on your tongue, he pulled out with a sigh, taking a moment to pull himself together.

"It never ceases to amaze me how good you are at that", he groaned. "You could make good money with that mouth."

You scowled. "Oh don't worry, kitten," he chuckled, "I was never one for sharing."

 

He moved down the bed and positioned himself between your legs, slipping on a condom. His palm grazed your tummy and softly ran down your legs as he slowly entered you, slipping in with ease. Then he leaned back and pulled your legs together, laying them on his right shoulder and lifting your lower body off the mattress. The angle was heaven. You could almost feel every millimetre, every ridge of him.

A breathless whimper lay on your lips as he adjusted himself, looking down at you with interest.

"That's a good look on you," he said, panting slightly as he pushed further into you.

The friction was enough. It was almost too much.

"Makoto," you begged.

"Go on then," he said kindly, "I want to feel you come."

So you did. Within a few thrusts you were rolling down a hill, endlessly tumbling with nothing to stop your cries from bouncing off the walls. And whenever you thought it was over, another wave pushed you downwards.

Somewhere in all this, Hanamiya's strokes became faster. You lay helplessly and closed your eyes as he took you, took every inch of you and tore it asunder. He came with a grunt, slumping forward to catch his breath, his palm brushing the moisture from your abdomen and the valley between your breasts. He chuckled and kissed the side of your knee before removing himself. 

 

He walked off and you could hear him splash around in the bathroom. When he came back, he stood for a moment, eyes running over your bare, exhausted body still very much tied to the headboard.

"Oi," you said.

He smirked and turned around, padding butt naked into the kitchen.

"Makoto!"

When he came back he was carrying a mug of water and his most mischievous smile.

"Untie me? Please?"

"But you look so pretty like that," he whined.

You glared at him.

"Restless little thing," he muttered and put the cup down by the bed. He hovered over you, lips softly brushing against your forehead while he undid his knots. He made you sit up and handed you the water, which you gulped down.

"You did well, __," he spoke gently, eyes scanning your wrists for damage, "Did you get hurt?"

You blinked at him. "I'm fine," you said hoarsely, before taking another big sip.

"Maybe, but you also stink of sex and sweat," he answered. "I'm running a bath. Into the shower with you."

He gave your thigh a little pat and got up, traipsing back into the bathroom.

 


	9. A slow day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You calmly walked into the room and sat down in a leather recliner facing the door. You swung one leg over the other, elbows wide on the armrests, like an queen on a throne.   
> "What bet?" you repeated, a lot less innocently.

It was supposed to be a slow, relaxing day. Hanamiya had a lot of work, but you were free for the rest of the week. So you took a long stroll through the park, visited several shops and came home to your apartment with three plastic bags from the convenience store. 

You shuffled into the kitchen and lazily rummaged through the cupboards while the kettle boiled. You were just pouring yourself some tea when the voices of your room mate and the Centre could be heard through the kitchen window. They were walking up to your place.

"I'm just saying," you heard the boy complain, "I doubt Hanamiya told her about that stupid bet and..."

Aiko interrupted him. "No. Nonono."

He pressed on. "She deserves to know, is all."

"We are not telling __-chan!" your room mate whispered determinedly. You heard her unlock the door.

"I'm not going to be the one to break her poor heart and..." She froze when she walked in and saw you leaning against the kitchen doorway, steaming mug of tea in your hands.

"What bet?" you asked innocently.

"__! Hi!" Aiko was ever so slightly too cheerful as the two of them looked at you, and then at each other.

"Long time no see, __-san," the boy croaked.

You calmly walked into the room and sat down in a leather recliner facing the door. You swung one leg over the other, elbows wide on the armrests, like an queen on a throne.

"What bet?" you repeated, a lot less innocently, and you sipped from your tea, eyes never leaving the two dumbstruck people currently fidgeting by the door.

Aiko inhaled deeply. "Ok," she said. "Ok, I'm sorry you heard that."

You blinked slowly.

"I'll, uh, I'll handle this," she said to the Centre, ushering the grateful boy out before sitting down on the couch.

You tilted your head at her.

"Look," Aiko said, hands grasping the fabric at her knees, "I, uh, didn't want to tell you this, because I don't like to see you hurt."

She looked like she was about to wilt under your gaze. You had learned from the best, after all.

"But there's a, ahh, a rumour, if you will." She rearranged some magazines on the coffee table. "You see, Hanamiya is in the basketball team, obviously, and one guy heard it from another guy, who picked it up..."

She trailed off and looked at your face, swallowing thickly.

"Apparently he's only dating you because of a bet." The words came out fast like vomit after a night of too much red wine. She immediately froze, as if she was surprised at their meaning now that they hung in the air between you. 

 

You sipped your tea. It tasted of nothing.

"I see," you said, forming the words like a psychiatrist would, or a priest in a confessional.

And you did, you really did see. That made a lot of sense, in retrospect. It was exactly the kind of thing he'd do, the kind of thing you'd _expected_ of him, when you first met. So why did it feel like the bottom had fallen out of your stomach?

You sat, breathing calmly while the news spread through your veins like tar.

There was nothing, not even numbness. All you could do was sit there and breathe and sip flavourless tea while Aiko worried her lip.

"__-chan..." she said eventually. "It... it may not be true, of course."

She did not believe that.

"How much?" you asked eventually.

"Huh?"

"What prize was this bet - supposedly - for?" Your voice sounded oddly foreign, toneless.

"__-chan..."

With a look you made her sit up straight. "Uh, I don't know. A fair bit of money. Like a month's rent? Look, it doesn't matter, I-"

You stood up.

"__?"

"I think I'll go to bed early," you told her.

"Look, if you want me to-"

"No."

You walked into your bedroom, bringing the mug with you.

"And thank you, Aiko," you stated, before closing and locking the door.

 

You carefully placed the tea on the floor and lay back on your bed, staring at the ceiling. You weren't crying, even though that would be preferable to this.... whatever this was. Shock? Disbelief? 

But why would you be shocked, you asked yourself. You knew this would happen. Part of you always knew. You went for it anyway. What the hell for? Because of the sex? Because you liked the way his hair felt as it brushed against your skin? Because talking to him was like fencing on a high wire, constantly trying to tip each other off balance? Because you enjoyed the thought that you could coax warmth out of hard granite?

Because you hated yourself?

 

You closed your eyes and tried to shut off the parade of images flickering into your vision.

It didn't work.

So you planned instead.

First, you had to verify. You had to make sure.

Then you'd confront him.

You rolled over, opened your laptop and watched idiots play horror games, screaming at the camera, until you fell asleep.

 

The next day, your first stop after lecture was the coffee shop.

"Well, he never would have asked you otherwise," Hara dead-panned when you told him about the bet. 

He didn't even try to deny it. It had been his fucking idea. 

You were a mere heartbeat away from slapping the smug smile off his stupid face. 

But your breath came in short, fast bursts and suddenly the room was stifling. Your eyes were burning as you stormed back out. If it had been hard to cry last night, it was impossible to stop now that the full realization had come crashing down on top of you.

 

Hanamiya opened the door to his place with irritation in his eyes. He hated to be disturbed in the middle of the day and he certainly didn't like people dropping by unannounced.

"Hey, what are you doing h-" he frowned when he saw your expression. Hanamiya was an observant man, most of the time, and he could see the gathering of a storm coming his way.

"Uh, come in, I guess," he said and walked ahead of you to his kitchen, where he mechanically started brewing coffee.

You were quiet, struggling with several waves of humiliation and pain as the scent of his place washed over you. You were absolutely not going to cry, you kept promising yourself.

"Wanna tell me what this is about?" Hanamiya said without turning around.

You took a deep breath.

"Tell me about this bet."

He didn't answer. He finished preparing the coffee and slowly turned around, leaning against the counter. You stood, trying to control your breathing while the room did its best to close in on you.

"What about it?" he asked. There was nothing in his face, not a twitch of guilt, not even a curl of joy.

"You're dating me for money," you said. 

Nothing.

"You were never actually interested in me. All those weeks, all of ... this, it was a sham. Some stupid game."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic."

"I will be whatever the FUCK I want to be, Hanamiya," you shouted. 

His eyes grew wide. You hadn't called him that in months.

"You played me like a puppet," you said, voice raw and shrill with the emotions now brimming over. 

Hanamiya's mouth set in a hard line. "And you liked it," he stated.

"You used me!" Your face felt hot and your hands had curled into tight fists.

He blinked slowly, impassively, which only made you more angry. 

You laughed, a short, shrill bark. "You're not even going to try to apologize, are you?"

"I don't regret it," he said, simply. "None of it would have mattered if you hadn't found out."

"Well I did."

"Look. It's... not like that and you know it." For once in his life, Hanamiya looked like he was struggling to find the right words. "How long of a con do you think I'm willing to play, __? You don't think I'd have better things to do if this wasn't-"

"Well apparently you don't, Hanamiya," you spat, "Isn't this what you live for? Playing with people? Breaking them?" With every word that hit him, you could see his eyes harden. "Well congratulations," you went on, "I fell for it. I fell for YOU and you made a fool of me. None of it ever meant a damn thing to you." 

"Are you really that stupid?" he snarled.

You froze. His mouth twitched.

"No, Makoto. I'm not. And this is the smartest decision I've made in months."

You turned on your heel and stormed out.

"Hey!" he yelled after you, "Fucking wait!" You slammed the door behind you, hot tears stinging your eyes again. You could just barely hear a muffled curse from inside as you marched up the street.

 


	10. Room 306

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Are you sick?" you asked before you could stop yourself.  
> "No," he mumbled, "go away."  
> "You look sick," you pressed on.  
> "I'm not."  
> He made a movement to close the door, but your nurturing side was already pushing past him and barging into his apartment.  
> "Hey... what?"  
> "Well you don't fucking look ok, either."

You didn't hear from Hanamiya in six weeks. In fact, you didn't even see him on campus. You weren't the only one. After a while, random people started asking you where he was. A nervous looking man who had to do a paper with him approached you one afternoon, while the coach of the basketball team came to find you before a lecture. Apparently he had missed classes for at least eight days and despite his best efforts, people had found out that you two were close. You had to explain to them that no, you did not know where he was, and no, this wasn't really any of your business. 

 

When it happened three times in one day, you were finally getting very, very irritated. You came home and plopped down on your bed with a heavy sigh. All you really wanted to do at this point was sleep. You closed your eyes, ready to doze off when your phone dragged you back to consciousness.

"Hey, it's Hara."

The effect of his voice was instantaneous. The mocking tone sent shivers down your spine and dredged up images of smirks and tasteless coffee foam art. It made your blood boil.

"Why the FUCK would you call me?" you yelled at your phone.

"Woah," the boy said.

You took a deep breath. "What do you want, Hara-kun?"

"Uh... I want you to check up on Hanamiya?"

You growled, officially losing all patience and closing the call. What the hell did he think he was playing at?

Ten seconds later, your phone rang again. Hara.

You ignored it. He tried six more times before you picked up again, seething with rage.

 

"Please?" the voice came across the phone before you could yell at him.

"What!?"

"Look, he hasn't shown up in the shop for a few days, Seto says he hasn't come into work. He's not picking up his phone and won't open the door for me. We're worried."

You draped your arm over your forehead. For someone who was a certified dick, he had a lot of people who gave a damn.

"Why does everyone seem to think this is somehow my business?" you groaned. "We broke up. I left. It's over,"

The barista hummed, seemingly thinking about it. "Because you're good for him, __-chan," he finally replied.

"What the actual fuck, Hara."

"Look, if he ever finds out that I told you this, he will legitimately kill me but you know how Hanamiya's a genius? He's also an idiot. Anyone could see he was into you after that fund raiser thing, but he'd never admit that to himself. Not in a million years. We just kinda... gave him a push. With the, uh, bet..." His voice trailed off.

"And you never considered me in all this?"

"You seemed to be enjoying yourself just fine, __-chan. Until you got your panties in a bunch."

"You're an asshole, Hara-kun."

"Yeah, I get that a lot." You could hear his smirk through the damn phone. "Now will you go check on him?"

"Will you stop harassing me if I say yes?"

He snorted.

You ended the call and turned off your phone for the evening.

The pain and humiliation from the last few weeks came bubbling up from the pit of your stomach again, and this time they brought guilt along. Obviously this was not your problem. But what if something had actually happened? And certainly, there was always a chance that this was another stupid ploy. But what if he was hurt? Much as you wanted to ask yourself why you should care, you already knew the answer.

 

It was after the day's lectures and you walked up to the door of the small studio in Sengoku, mentally kicking yourself the entire way from campus. You knocked tentatively.

"Hello?"

No answer. You knocked louder.

"Hanamiya-kun?"

You tried to peer through the blinds in front of his window, but it was hard to see anything in the gloom of his apartment.

"Hanamiya-kun? .... M-makoto?" you almost whispered it against the wood, listening intently. You could swear you heard something stir inside.

You did not want to be here. You should not be here.

"Look," you pleaded with the door, "you haven't shown up anywhere in ages. If you don't open this door, I'm calling the cops and having them barge it open."

A soft sound could be heard from within.

"Hanamiya?"

After a few more knocks, the door finally opened a crack.

"What are you doing here?" came the tired voice of Hanamiya.

"Checking on you." You folded your arms.

"Why?"

"Because apparently, everyone else is too lazy to do it." You showed him your phone, with messages from his basketball coach, Hara and even an email from Hanamiya's colleague, who should absolutely not have your address.

"I'm fine," he said.

He did not look fine.

He looked, well, dead. His skin was pale, his hair greasy. He was wearing ratted sweatpants and an old t-shirt that was two sizes too small. The bags under his eyes could hold a rhinoceros.

"Are you sick?" you asked before you could stop yourself.

"No," he mumbled, "go away."

"You look sick," you pressed on.

"I'm not."

He made a movement to close the door, but your nurturing side was already pushing past him and barging into his apartment.

"Hey... what?"

"Well you don't fucking look ok, either." You walked into the studio, which was a lot darker and more rank than you remembered. You started opening windows.

 

"What do you think you're doing?" Hanamiya came shuffling after you.

You waltzed into the kitchen and started rummaging through his cupboards.

"I'm making you soup."

"I'm _not_ sick!" He was angry now, but you couldn't care less.

"Have you taken a good look at yourself?" you ranted, grabbing a can of crushed tomatoes and placing it on the counter. Hanamiya stood still in his kitchen, quietly watching you open several drawers looking for a clean spoon.

"You look like a fucking zombie." You found one and were back in the cabinets, picking out spices.

"And this place isn't much better." You tentatively fished a pot out of ancient dishwater, wrinkling your nose as you rinsed it.

"I mean, dear lord, I hope your mother doesn't see this." You were about to turn on the stove when you felt something shift in the young man.

"Hana... Makoto?"

He shambled away and crumbled onto the sofa. You put down the pot as something slowly clicked in your head.

"How... is... your mother?" you asked it slowly, taking careful steps towards him.

"I don't know," he whispered.

"What do you mean?" Your voice was low, deliberate, diplomatic.

"She was in the hospital, last time I checked."

You bit your lip. "When was that?"

"Two weeks ago."

"Why would you..." you started, but it was fairly obvious. You could see the fear in the way his hands trembled, could almost feel the pain underneath those glazed eyes.

Hara was right. He really was an idiot.

 

You took a deep breath and straightened up.

"Here's what we're going to do," you said in a voice that embodied at least three generations of women. "You're taking a shower. I'm making you something to eat and then we're going to the hospital."

He stared blankly at you.

"This is your mother, Hanamiya-kun," you said, trying very hard to mask your annoyance, "the woman who has had to do a lot of fucking things by herself to raise you. And now she's hurt and probably scared and fragile and you're leaving her alone in a hospital room to deal with it?"

He sighed. "That's not..."

"Stop acting like a selfish prick," you said it loud enough to make him physically wince. "We're going to visit her, even if I have to physically drag you there."

"You?" He raised his eyebrows.

"There are a lot of big guys who owe me right now," you snarled, "and the last thing I want to do is be here so _do not fucking test me_ , Hanamiya."

He blinked. It was a small miracle that he hadn't bodily kicked you out yet. But here you stood in his living room as Hanamiya slowly got up and slumped towards the bathroom. Hanamiya, who would never stand for being treated like this. Hanamiya, who did not have the energy to fight you. Hanamiya, who was so lost that he became obedient.

You pursed your lips and returned to the counter to make some hot food while the sound of water came from the room beyond. Quietly, you called several hospitals to find out if the woman was still there.

 

"Here, 306," you said, holding up a little note as you walked through the seemingly endless hallway. You were on the recovery ward, which gave you some relief. Hanamiya silently walked behind you, looking slightly less dead. He currently looked like he was plotting murder, instead. You may have gone too far in your efforts to get him back to normal. You found a seat on a nearby bench while he hovered in front of the door.

You glowered at him.

He rolled his eyes and tentatively opened it before stepping in.

Twenty minutes later, you looked up from your phone to see him standing in front of you.

"She wants to talk to you," he mumbled, staring down the hall.

"Huh?"

"She wants to see you," he said, slightly louder this time.

"O...k...?" You slowly got up, frowning at your ex as he gave you a helpless little shrug.

 

You quietly slipped into the dim room where a middle aged woman lay in bed, waving at you to come closer. She looked a lot younger than you'd imagined and she was prettier, too, with long black hair tied into a neat bun and eyebrows perfectly styled.

"So you're the girl," she said, motioning you to her side.

"Uh, ma'am, I'm-" you began.

"I've heard about you," she patted your hand kindly.

You blinked.

"I'm so glad he's found a nice girl," the woman continued, smiling softly into your shocked face.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but I'm just-"

"And you even managed to make him come see me," Hanamiya's mother giggled, unfazed: "That's a rare gift, right there. I was worried, you know. I never thought Mako-chan was any good with girls."

"Mako... chan?" You battled a grin as you glanced at the corner of the room where Hanamiya stood, looking utterly mortified. He sent you a stare that promised certain death if those words ever left this room.

"Um. Yes ma'am," you managed, "You are too kind."

 


	11. Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Stay," he said.  
> You stared at him and he sighed, still looking anywhere but straight at you.  
> Don't do this to me, was all you could think, please, please don't do this to me.  
> What came out of your mouth was: "We broke up."  
> "I miss you," he said.

"She's nice," you told Hanamiya as the two of you walked out of the hospital.

He grunted, shoving his hands deep in his pockets and looking off into the distance.

"And you promised to come back tomorrow," you grinned, making him glare at you.

You had ended up chatting with her for almost an hour. The woman was unnervingly pleasant. You _liked_ Hanamiya's mother, even though the man next to you seemed to think the conversations between you and her were a special form of torture. It made you a little sad that you wouldn't see her again.

You were chattering happily most of the way home while he quietly looked out the window of the bus, occasionally humming to show that he was still listening. It felt nice to speak to him. You'd forgotten how used to his presence you were, how he always understood what you were talking about even if your tastes were well outside of what was common. Before you knew it, you were standing in front of his door again.

He looked at you, face still full of creases. You hesitated between offering him more help and getting the hell out of there. You'd done what you came here to do, any more and you feared for the state of your heart.

"Are you coming in to get your books?" he said.

"Huh?"

"Your study books," he said, unlocking the door. "Isn't that why you're here?"

Shit.

"Ah, yes, of course."

 

"Man, you really need to clean this place," you remarked as you followed him in. You grabbed your bag and turned around to see him lean against the back of the couch, staring intently at a point on the opposite wall. 

"Stay," he said. 

You stared at him and he sighed, still looking anywhere but straight at you. 

Don't do this to me, was all you could think, please, please don't do this to me. 

What came out of your mouth was: "We broke up." 

"I miss you," he said.

"No."

"I miss your warmth," he said, softly.

"Get a dog."

He turned to you and chuckled darkly.

"And I miss you sharp tongue." He moved closer, running a single digit over your lower lip.

"And the way your breath hitches just _so_ when I touch you." His hand ran up your side lightly, trailing goosebumps under your shirt, before he gripped the skin just under your ribs. You gasped and his face was in front of you, grinning, his mouth close, too close, to yours. 

You swallowed and licked your lips involuntarily. "Hanamiya-kun."

"Be honest, now. You feel the same. You wouldn't be here if you didn't care. Even a little angel girl like you has no obligation to take care of her horrible ex-boyfriend," he whispered in a low, dark voice. "You're addicted to me, kitten." 

"That's enough." You shoved him off you. "Stop playing mind games with me."

You were about to cry, you could tell, and you weren't even sure if it was anger, frustration or something else altogether that caused it. 

Hanamiya had backed away slightly. 

"Stay." His voice was so quiet you almost couldn't hear it. "Please."

For a few moments, you stood there transfixed. He was rubbing his upper arm with one hand, unreadable expression on his face as he looked at your eyes. 

"I... you're tolerable."

You glowered. "Fuck you, Hanamiya."

"Look," he sighed. "I... enjoy being with you. This is new for me, ok? I fucking hate most people."

You had to suppress the urge to laugh. 

"And I don't hate you. So stay," he swallowed. "I could really use the company."

 

You took a deep breath. He looked sad and vulnerable and it made your heart ache. He knew it would. He never did play fair. 

"Fine," you finally stated, "I'll help you get this... Hey!" A long arm curled around your waist and pushed you onto the couch, immediately followed by Hanamiya's body flopping down on top of you. 

"What the hell!" You flailed underneath him. 

"Shh, stop wriggling," he mumbled, burying his face in your stomach.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"You just said you'd stay and help," he spoke against your skin, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, "What I need is sleep and I sleep better like this."

"Ma- Hanamiya-kun..." you protested weakly, but he had already closed his eyes. 

He felt warm and familiar. This was exactly the part of him that you adored, the one that was cuddly and calm, that appreciated you just being there. You looked down at his sallow features and the dark lines under his eyes. There was a reason everyone assumed you'd be the one to do this. 

"Hand me the remote," you sighed.

Without opening his eyes, he stretched out an arm and patted the floor by the couch. You were pretty sure he was smirking when you took the device from his hand and started flicking through channels on his tiny tv, absent mindedly running your fingers through his softened hair. 

 

A thin ray of sunlight pried at your eyelids the next morning and you blearily looked around, feeling slightly disoriented. The last thing you remembered was watching some cooking show. Now the tv was turned off and Hanamiya had moved to your side, one leg swung over you. You'd lost all feeling in your right arm, currently buried somewhere underneath him. 

You shifted and the boy grunted, arms around your waist pulling you tighter. 

"Hanamiya," you whispered softly, "Let go."

"No," he grumbled, "Go back to sleep."

"Hanamiya, I need to pee."

He sighed.

"Badly."

He squinted up at you and theatrically lifted his arm, letting your roll off the couch. You massaged the life back into your shoulder while you walked into the bathroom. The girl in the bathroom mirror looked like a monster from one of Hanamiya's horror movies. Your clothes were wrinkled from sleeping in them, your hair was a mess and yesterday's mascara was forming dark lined under your eyes. 

 

When you left the bathroom, looking a lot more presentable, the smell of coffee wafted through the studio. Hanamiya was clattering around on the counter. He'd already put a mug out for you. You reached for it, happy for something to cut through the bleary fuzz in your head, when a strong hand grabbed your arm and turned you around. His lips were on yours, soft and quick, gone before you even had time to react. 

"Hanamiya, what the hell?"

He smirked, taking a step back. "You gonna tell me you didn't want that to happen?"

You pushed your hand against your mouth. "You don't just go around kissing your exes, Hanamiya."

"Most people don't go around spending the night with them either."

You stared at him wide eyed, suddenly feeling betrayed. "You fucking kept me here."

He rolled his eyes and folded his arms."You could've just asked me to get off, you know," he said with a sly smile.

"And can we stop the 'ex' thing?" he added. "It's obvious that you want me back, and I want you back, bla bla, we're stuck together."

"Such a romantic," you grunted and he smirked at you, head tilted slightly as he ran his gaze over your features. You grabbed the coffee and took a big, scalding gulp, closing your eyes to find a path in the whirlwind of thoughts currently fighting for dominance. 

 

"I don't trust you," you finally said. 

"That's fair, I guess," he shrugged. "What do you want, then?"

"We start over, clean slate," you stated. "If you want me to be with you, you date me like you mean it. You tell me you like me, you show me you care and you act like you respect me."

He blinked, slightly taken aback.

"You're asking for a lot of things, kitten," he whispered.

"I'm asking for _everything,_ " you replied, voice raw and bleeding with emotion. "I don't need you to be someone you're not, Hanamiya-kun. I don't need hand holding and pick-nicks and dancing, but I do need to be your partner, not your pet. I'm done being a puppet hanging on your threads."

He was quiet for what seemed like forever, staring at some point on the wall while you inhaled the sharp smell of roasted beans and fought with the lump in your throat. You kept promising yourself you wouldn't cry, but you were quickly losing this particular battle again.

 

"Fine," he said eventually. His voice was soft, barely perceptible. "I'll do my best."

You stared into the black pool of coffee in your hands, breath hitching.

"Come here?" He held out a hand. You slowly took it and he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

"If this is some joke," you whispered, voice cracking. 

"Idiot," he said softly, pressing his lips to your forehead. 

 


	12. Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another chapter of sin.

It had taken almost two months of dating before you were ready to fall into Hanamiya's bed again, but boy were you ready now. You'd gone to see one of his matches with Aiko, who was slowly getting around to the idea that he wasn't going to disappear any time soon, and now the two of you were waiting for the players to trickle out of the stadium. The Centre came out first, chuckling lightly and rubbing the back of his neck when his cheerful girlfriend pulled him into a hug.

You congratulated him and his team mates, chatting politely until Hanamiya came out, face set in a scowl. 

"Oh hey. We're going to Maji's to celebrate," the first string shooting guard said, "You guys wanna come?"

Hanamiya gave you a look that made it clear this would end badly. His mom was out of the hospital, you knew, and he'd gotten up early to grab her groceries and take care of stuff all week. Any more random acts of kindness or sociable behaviour and the boy would surely implode.

"Sorry, we have plans," you smiled. 

"You know you don't have to hang out with a killjoy!" the point guard shouted as you walked away. 

"I'm going to break that guy one of these days," Hanamiya grumbled. You waved at them as he put his hand on the small of your back, steering you away. "Let's go."

 

You'd cooked him dinner to celebrate, and now the two of you were on his bed, watching some documentary about the invention of the cotton gin on your laptop. Hanamiya was engrossed in it but you quickly found your hands wandering. If he felt your fingers inching up his sides, he wasn't letting it show. So you ducked your head under his loose shirt and pressed little kisses on his abdomen, running your fingers through the small tuft of hair peeking out above his shorts. Slowly, you moved your lips up his body, switching between playful bites and little kitten licks.

"Oi," he said, lifting up his collar and scowling down his shirt, "you'd better be up for sex if you're going to tease me like that."

You innocently smiled up at him.

"Also you're stretching my shirt," he mumbled. You inched up to kiss his lips.

"Then take it off," you grinned.

Hanamiya cocked an eyebrow and removed the garment in one smooth motion. He pulled you up to eye level and kissed you deeply, taking off your top and your bra.

"I take it you're not interested in agricultural history?" he smirked and gripped your sides, making you straddle him. You kissed his nose in reply. 

"Uncultured," he sighed, nipping at your throat.

"I am the opposite of uncultured, Makoto," you said as you carded your fingers through his hair, "I know my literature, mister."

"Yeah? Culture is one thing and varnish is another." He ran his hands over your breasts, placing open mouthed kisses down your neck. 

You sucked in a breath and sent your nails down his back. "No varnish can hide the grain of the wood, Makoto. The more varnish you put on, the more the grain will express itself,” you recited, shifting in his lap and placing a finger under his chin to direct his attention to your mouth.

"Are you honestly trying to seduce me with quotes from dead dudes?" he squinted.

You grinned, placing little kisses on the side of his mouth and up his cheek. "Is it working?"

"Don't tempt me, kitten, that's the most awkward thing I've ever heard," he grumbled.

"They do say that the best way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it." You sat back and waggled your eyebrows, beaming down at him. He groaned and rolled over so he was on top of your giggling form.

"Shut up, you idiot," he said, crashing his lips into yours.

 

Now that you'd finally gotten his attention, he wasted no time in getting to business. He moved his mouth down your body and quickly slid off your skirt and panties before running his tongue up the side of your thighs. 

"Makoto..." You'd been smart about this, you really had. You'd waited until you were comfortable with him again. You'd been vigilant. You'd taken precautions to not fall for some stupid ploy. But all that meant was that you yearned for him now. You were barely able to contain yourself as he trailed moisture up your hips.

"Open up," he said, sneaking a hand between your thighs, "I wanna taste you."

 

You mewled a little, your hands sinking into his hair while he explored you with the tip of his tongue. 

"Fuck." You closed your eyes, concentrating on your breathing as he sent sharp pulses through your body. 

You tried to stop yourself from wriggling all over the place but failed miserably, causing a little chuckle. The low hum sent another shiver through your lower regions. His fingers pressed hard into your thighs, keeping them in place as he suckled at your clit.

"Fuck, Makoto." You tugged at his hair.

You could do patience, but not today. Today you needed friction and you needed him, as much of him as humanly possible.

"Makoto, please."

His head rose from between your legs and he grinned when he saw the desperate look in your eyes.

"My, my, kitten," Hanamiya purred as he got up and stepped out of his pants. He grabbed a condom and made you scoot so he could sit on the bed.

"If you're going to be that eager, you may as well work for it," he said, sliding the rubber down his erection. 

"Come here." He curled a finger at you, motioning you to straddle him. 

You did so and he pulled your head down into a kiss, his lips smelling heavily of your desire. You could feel his fingers rub lazy circles over your folds while he positioned his penis at your entrance. 

With a sigh you eased yourself onto him, a little too fast, too impatient. 

"Mmh," you bit down on your lower lip and pressed your forehead against his, waiting for the sparks in your cunt to die down. You could feel him everywhere, as if he was connected to every nerve ending in your body. His hands were on your back and his lips on your mouth and when you moved the currents ran all the way to your fingertips. 

 

"You wanted this so badly, didn't you," his voice vibrated low against your throat while you slowly rose and fell, the muscles in your thighs trembling. "You missed the feeling of having me deep inside you."

You could only whimper in response.

"No one fucks you like I do, angel girl," Hanamiya whispered, "No one."

His breath was hot and close against your skin. "You're mine."

The words sent a jolt through you and you closed your eyes, focusing on the rise and the fall, your muscles working while the blood in your veins was slowly replaced with warm honey.

Hanamiya nipped at your neck and moved his thumb over your clit, swiping half moons above it in a way that instantly made you clench. You could feel him smile against your skin.

"Mine," he murmured, sucking a patch of skin just above your shoulder.

"Mine," he groaned and he grabbed your thighs.

 

With surprising force, he lifted you up and flipped you backwards, so you fell on the bed between his legs. You let out a startled shriek, but he was already scrambling to his knees and pushing back into you. He pulled your legs over his thighs to drive himself deeper, keeping your hips in place with one hand, while the other stroked your tummy and grabbed your breast.

"Fuck, __, you look hot like this," he groaned, eyes glazed and sauntering up your body. You dropped your arms over your head and let his movements ripple through you, hard thrusts that shook your whole being and made your breasts jiggle.

"Mine," he said as he pounded the sensitive front of your vagina again and again until you could no longer stop the moans from spilling out.

"Mako-" Your breath shuddered as your orgasm hit you by surprise. It welled up like water from a spring and took hold of you, stripping you of the last vestiges of control as your body quivered and quaked, hands gripping the pillow above you. Wave after wave crashed into you and Hanamiya fucked you through it, gripping your thighs hard to hold you down.

 

He waited for you to come down from your high before pulling out and taking off the condom. 

"Come here," he said, tugging you upright and standing next to the bed. 

You parted your lips and slowly took his erection in your mouth, letting your tongue get used to the taste of rubber and salt before bobbing your head to the sound of his whimpers.

"Fuck, __," he groaned. He was hard and swollen. You could feel him twitch as he neared his breaking point, his fingers clawing at your shoulders.

"Close your eyes," he said and he pulled out of your mouth a second before you felt hot liquid drip across your face and down your breasts.

You wrinkled your nose at the sudden sensation. "What'd you do that for?"

"Mine," he smiled, leaning down to kiss your puffy lips as you carefully fluttered your eyes up at him. He wiped some semen from your cheek, before licking it off his thumb. "That looks cute on you."

You frowned at him.

"Let's get you cleaned up, kitten."

 

An hour later, you closed the lid of your laptop to the end credits of the documentary, and sank back to find yourself very much trapped in the arms of Hanamiya Makoto.

"I take it I'm sleeping here tonight?" you asked, smiling at the sudden darkness.

He hummed in response, pulling you closer and nuzzling your hair.

"Mine," he muttered.

"Does that go both ways, Makoto?"

He was quiet for a moment, breath soft and warm against your skin. Here in the dark, in this bed that contained a universe for just the two of you, you could feel his heart beat against your back. A slow drum, calm, never faltering. You closed your eyes and counted the beats until he finally spoke.

"Sure, whatever."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, and thanks for reading this story.   
> Let me know what you liked and what could be better!


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